


Night Terrors

by Clennel



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Bittersweet, Comfort, Emotional, F/M, Nightmares, chat noir and ladybug have a Talk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-24
Updated: 2017-06-24
Packaged: 2018-11-18 05:53:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11285028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clennel/pseuds/Clennel
Summary: After nearly a year of being Ladybug, Marinette thought she has the superhero thing down. That was before the nightmares started. She and Chat Noir find themselves on the Eiffel Tower where they finally have a talk about their sleepless nights.





	Night Terrors

**Author's Note:**

> This was a little piece that was meant to be a boredom buster. I liked the idea of the repercussions of the responsibilities that being a superhero has, and that unfortunately includes the less favorable ones. What was meant to be a little piece about sleepless nights became a fanfiction of Ladybug and Chat Noir's nightmares and just a little insight to their dynamic.
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> ~~

Marinette jolts up in her bed, mouth ajar in frozen terror. A scream builds in her throat as she darts a glance around. She searches for the bodies, the blood, the akuma with a wicked grin stalking towards her. But with the moonlight illuminating her normal, if not messy, room, she slowly comes to terms with the fact that it was merely a dream.

Marinette collapses against her bedframe. Tries to steady her racing heart. Her breaths come out as sharp pants, breaking the peaceful silence of an otherwise normal night. She wraps an arm around herself. _Just a nightmare. It was just a nightmare._

But logically knowing that doesn’t vanquish the phantom fingers clutching at her throat. The blood splattered across her hands. Marinette swallows back a scream. Swallows back the bile and the outrage and the terror. It does nothing to stop the tears. The water burns her eyes; blurring the shadows until they once again look like formless monsters.

Marinette bites down on her fist to muffle the sobs. Shuts her eyes tight and tries to stay calm. Tries to pretend that she isn’t shuddering so hard that the bed shakes under her. Tries to stay quiet, tries to pretend that she’s okay, that it was just a dream. It wasn’t real.

“Mari?” Tikki’s sleepy voice pauses her sobs. There’s a sigh and then the kwami flies up and puts her small hands to Marinette’s cheeks. She wipes away the tears. “That’s the third time this week.”

Marinette’s lips twist in an effort to stop another sob. When she does manage to speak, it’s hardly more than a broken whisper. “I know.”

“Oh Marinette,” Tikki says, pressing their foreheads together, “Brave, brave girl.”

“I-I’m okay.” Marinette tries for a smile, if only to ease Tikki’s worry, “Besides, if...if it keeps up at-at least I’ll be used to it, right?”

She holds the smile for a half second longer before the sobs come back full force. Just another thing she can’t control. Another thing that takes her for a ride and tugs her along and spins her around until she can’t get her bearings, until she can’t focus, until she can’t do anything, until she’s helpless, and what if she’s like this against an akuma and what if she’s helpless, what if she can’t control-

“Marinette. Take a breath.”

She does.

“Another one.”

She nods. Takes another. And another. Breath in, breath out. In, out, in, out. One thing she can control. Marinette isn’t sure how long they stay there, listening to her regulate her breathing, but by the time Marinette has calmed down, her leg is cramping.

Marinette’s tears have finally stopped. They’ve dried into tracks that tighten her skin in odd ways; a physical reminder of her weakness. She pulls away from Tikki. Mutters a thank you. Third time this week she’s woken Tikki up.

She whispers, “I’m sorry.”

“There’s nothing to apologize for,” Tikki says, “It’s-”

“Tikki?”

“Yes?”

“I...I just need to clear my head,” Marinette doesn’t need to finish her thought; they’ve done this enough times by now. “Spots on.”

The Ladybug suit feels like a second skin, a thin armor. In it, she can pretend that the shadows are just shadows, that she doesn’t see monsters in them. That her room doesn’t feel very, very small. That she feels trapped in it the longer she stays, that the shadows don’t seem to stretch towards her.

Marinette is outside in a single step. Cold, biting, night air cuts across her cheeks. It has nothing on the chills already crawling down her spine. She tries not to think, instead letting her body simply wander. The city lights dance across her skin, painting a tragic scene of their broken hero aglow against the night.

Marinette keeps swinging, flying, falling, crying, and drying her tears, until she reaches the Eiffel Tower. It’s late enough that the lights are off, but that’s how she prefers it. The shadows here aren’t oppressing or nightmarish; they offer her a place to disappear.

She sinks down, tugging her knees to her chest. Here, so far away from her room and so far above any bystanders, she begins to calm. It was just a dream. Just another nightmare. She can handle this; she has before. It doesn’t make this any easier, though.

Marinette had thought that she was getting the hang of this Protector of Paris thing. And she was. She was managing the late nights, the excuses, the stress, the double life, all of it just fine. She had Chat Noir, Tikki, and freedom.

And then a couple months in, the nightmares started. The excuses turned to lies that suffocated her. The late nights became sleepless ones. Monsters began to lurk in every corner, in the whispers of conversations, in the hits civilians barely dodged, in the sudden way an akuma could appear. Marinette had forgotten of a time where she could relax during the day; now it felt like she had to brace herself constantly. Paranoid. She was paranoid.

Marinette sighs. Buries her face in her arms. She will be okay. She has to be okay. She has school tomorrow, and inevitably an akuma, and she is no use to anyone tired. She has a test she didn’t study for, but she probably can pass if she doesn’t fall asleep mid question, and Alya will get worried again and if an akuma does come by, if she isn’t awake someone can get hurt and what if she can’t fix it? What if she stands there while her nightmares come true, as paralyzed as she is in her dreams?

“LB?”

Marinette nearly jumps out of her skin. She’s up on her feet in a moment, yoyo already in her hand. She’s taken a step forward, ready to fight, before the owner of the voice dawns on her. Chat has backed away from her, hands up protectively.

She deflates. Is this how wired she’s been? Crazed enough to make her closest friend think she’d attack? That she would have had she not paid attention? The yoyo falls at her side. “I’m sorry.”

Chat relaxes. Shoots her a hesitant, reassuring smile which quickly fades to concern. “Why’re you out this late?”

Marinette sits back down. “Couldn’t sleep.”

“Me too.”

As he settles in next to her, close enough for her to feel his warmth, but far away enough for her to breathe, she does something she didn’t think she would do tonight. She relaxes. When the possibility of an akuma bears down on you every second of every day, having someone by your side makes it easier. Knowing Chat is here, ready to help her tackle whatever monster, whatever akuma, makes her feel safer than she has in a couple days. She almost starts crying right then and there.

Instead, she clears her throat and says, “We do this a lot, don’t we?”

He chuckles, though there’s very little humor in the sound. “Yeah. We do.”

“It’s nice.” Out of the corner of her eye, Marinette sees him jerk in surprise. She raises an eyebrow. “It’s not for you?”

“No, no, it is, it’s unbelievably comforting, I just always thought-”

“Chat, having you here,” Marinette, apparently not fully recovered as tears make their grand reappearance, because what if he wasn't here, “makes it a bit easier.”

He’s at her side in a second. Screw the distance, he seems to say as he tugs her against him. Wraps her in a hug that’s loose enough for her to pull away but god no. Marinette has had too many nights of crying by herself. Of leaving before Chat can see the tears. Of the half lies and the excuses and how they make a web that she gets caught, a noose she hangs herself in, she’s tired and he’s warm and there and her best friend and damn everything, so she moves closer. Leans her head against the crook of his neck and shoulder. Clings to him as he holds her steady.

“Hey. Hey, it’s okay,” he whispers in her hair, “It’s okay.”

It really isn’t. Maybe it will be in the morning, when her nightmares seem like a world away, but not right now. Right now she can’t stop the tears from flowing, can’t stop herself shaking. She can’t help but wrap her arms around him because what if she lets go and he disappears? What if she lets go and tomorrow he won’t be there? What if her nightmares are right?

Chat whispers tiny phrases, things that mean nothing but are more comforting than they should be. He holds her tighter. Waits for the tears to slow, for the sobs to shudder into unsteady breaths. He holds her until she feels a bit steadier.

“It’ll be okay. Just keep breathing Ladybug. Deep breaths.”

Slowly, Marinette remembers herself. She’s awake. Paris is asleep; calm and peaceful with its ever flickering lights. Chat is still here. And she’s just dissolved into a hot mess on him for who knows how long. Marinette clears her throat and gently untangles herself. She has to be better than this.

Chat’s hands follow her, unwilling to let her pull away. His fingers gently press against her jaw, guiding her gaze back to his. “It’s okay to break.”

Marinette should shrug away his touch. She shouldn’t be here. He’s a flirt, he could take this the wrong way, she is stronger than this...and none of those things are true. So she stays still. And in his gaze, her own brokenness shines back.

Maybe it’s because she’s so far away from her house, her life, from the girl she tries to be during the daytime, maybe it’s because she’s so far away from the akumas, from the girls she tries to be at night, maybe it’s because she’s in an untouchable middle ground that she finds herself whispering, “I’m scared, Chat.”

“I know. Me too.”

“The nightmares...they…”

“They don’t really stop.”

Marinette takes a shuddering breath. And after months of skirting around what truly has them seeking the Eiffel Tower as shelter, she finally asks, “What are your nightmares of?”

His hand falls from her face. Chat seems to draw into himself. The air around them chills and Marinette wishes she could pluck her words back from the breeze.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-”

“I don’t call them nightmares.”

Marinette’s words wither in her throat. Chat meets her gaze for a fraction of a second before he turns back out towards the city. Talking to the wind.

“They’re night terrors. That’s the only thing that actually describes them. Terrors that haunt me during the day and night. So many what ifs. So many things that can go wrong. I dream a lot about my friends. I’m bad luck incarnate remember? ….One day that’s going to catch up to me.”

Chat shivers, eyes turning glassy. Marinette reaches over, resting her hand over his. Though he doesn’t look at her, his fingers squeeze hers before he continues.

“And a lot of them are about Hawkmoth. What if we don’t defeat him? What happens then? We just keep fighting for the rest of our lives until we turn it over to another pair of kids? Or even worse…”

Chat finally looks at her. “What if we do? What happens if we defeat him? What happens to us? I don’t have much besides being Chat Noir. I can be myself without worries, what happens if that’s gone? Or, what if it never ends? The paranoia, the villains, the pressure and civilians and responsibility. What if the nightmares never end?”

He swallows thickly, gaze jerking back to the city. “But most of all, I dream of the akumas. Of the attacks. That maybe one day my suit won’t absorb all of the damage. That an akuma will attack and I won’t be there. A blast meant for me will fall on you or a civilian. It could be as simple as me not getting there in time and seeing you fall. I know our dynamic. I’m the protector.” His hand grips hers. “The fact that there might come a day when I fail terrifies me.”

For the first time that night, Marinette can’t form a complete thought. Every time she tries, it breaks off, sparking into ash. Instead, she scoots closer to him. Letting herself press against him, thighs to shoulders. Chat doesn’t react. He’s too lost in thought and possibilities to even notice.

Marinette’s mouth goes dry. She closes her eyes and takes a breath, swearing that she’ll make it through this without crying. If he could, she can.

“My nightmares are monsters. Shadows. Inescapable. What if I fail? What if I’m not good enough and someone suffers because of it? What if an akuma is too powerful and I can’t fix it? The worst part...is that I don’t think I could come back from that. If someone died...I’d break. Shatter. Ladybug wouldn’t be the protector of Paris anymore because the girl behind the mask would be wondering why it wasn’t her. She’s the indestructible one.”

Marinette feels Chat turn to her, feels his steady gaze fall on her but she can’t bring herself to open her eyes. Not yet.

“My nightmares are like yours. Makes sense, same responsibilities and all that. But...I dream of bodies. Bodies upon bodies piling up with blood on my hands. I dream of your suit turning white and a purple outline across your face. What if I can’t save you? What if you’re lost to me forever because I failed? What if…”

Marinette clutches Chat’s hand like a lifeline. “What if an akuma attacks one day and you’re not there?”

Silence greets her. It’s not suffocating, or overwhelming, it doesn’t fill Marinette with what ifs or fears that she said the wrong thing, it’s simply silence. He squeezes her hand as they sit, each soaking in the other’s story.

Time skates by, seconds seamlessly sliding into minutes. Their legs dangle over the edge, sometimes bumping into each other. Eventually, Chat looks up. Sighing, he leans back, laying across the roof. His gaze devours the sky whole and what little stars there are shine in impossibly green eyes.

Marinette follows him. She lays down, looking up at a speckled sky.

Chat takes a shaky breath. “Do you think we’ll get used to the paranoia?”

She tilts her head up, heart breaking at the braced expression on his face. “I don’t know.” She can’t bring herself to lie. “I hope so. But…”

“Yeah. I know. Every time someone gets mad around me, I tense.”

Marinette laughs, the sound hollow. “Me too. I keep scanning for places to transform. I hardly have enough energy to pay attention to lessons. If it weren’t for my friends, I’d be even worse off.”

Chat closes his eyes. Untangles his fingers from hers. “Sometimes I wish....I wish you were there. It’d make it easier.”

“I know. I’m sorry.” Marinette can’t bring herself to look at him. What if he saw that she wanted the same? “There are a thousand reasons but they all seem like excuses.” She rubs at her face. “Fear makes us do stupid things.”

“You don’t have to be sorry.” He sighs. “I’m scared too.”

Marinette reaches for his hand. Maybe it’s stupid, but it feel right. She intertwines their fingers once again. Presses a soft kiss to his knuckles. “One day.”

Chat nods. “One day,” he echoes. And for now, for both of them, it’s good enough. A couple seconds pass before Chat turns his head. “What constellations do you think there are?”

She shrugs. “Probably one in the shape of a plane.”

That earns her a laugh and with it, the tension curled in her body releases. If Chat can still laugh, maybe they’ll be okay. For a while, they stay like that. Legs dangling, eyes watching, hands still intertwined. For a while, the shadows, the monsters, the fear, all of it can’t reach them.

Marinette yawns. She rests her head on Chat’s shoulder, lightly enough that he can pull away if he wants. Instead, he lets go of her hand, only to wrap his arm around her. His head tilts, leaning against hers.

And logically, Marinette knows that she shouldn’t fall asleep, that she’ll have to get up eventually, but it’s been many days since she’s properly slept, since she’s felt this safe. Like everything will be okay. She doesn’t want to let go of it just yet.

So, Marinette lets her eyes drift shut.

“Ladybug?”

“Yeah Chat?”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

Marinette holds him a little tighter, finally realizing how badly she needed to hear that. “Neither am I.”

Chat stills under her and it’s a long moment before she feels him sigh in relief.

“...Goodnight bugaboo.”

“Goodnight mon minou.”

*****

There, on the Eiffel Tower, high above the city, the Protectors of Paris finally sleep in peace.


End file.
